


New Home

by Prubun (Rincanpy)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, M/M, Slight fluff, injury mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-09-19 21:51:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9461762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rincanpy/pseuds/Prubun
Summary: Prussia has been dissolved, and when Gilbert expects to fade into the shadow of his younger brother, he is sent to an old acquaintance instead.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write some semi-historical RusPru so here we are. Some angsty RusPru.

It was almost time. The taxi drove through the snowy evening, passing under lights that lit the back of the cab with dim yellow light for a brief second or two. He was nervous. Not even he could deny it. A knot tied in his stomach and threatened to make him hurl up what little he’d eaten earlier. It’d been a while since he’d been on these roads. He remembered those times like it was yesterday, but those memories were now more bitter than sweet; not that he particularly liked coming here, but the memories made his eyes sting with tears. The last time he was on these roads, he was a kingdom — powerful and feared. Now he was nothing but a fragment of his brother, being sent away to Russia because his capital was owned by Ivan Braginsky.

Just thinking the man’s name made his stomach twist more, but also lit a spark of anger in him. How would he be treated in Russia? Would he be hated and treated like dirt, or maybe made to work? He wondered how Ivan would treat him. They weren’t exactly friends; more enemy than anything else. He didn’t know if Ivan agreed to his dissolution, but Gilbert knew he did. Why would anyone oppose it? Then again, he didn’t truly understand why everyone agreed to it either. He felt betrayed on every side.

He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but Ivan frightened him. Something about those bright purple eyes that he’d often caught leering at him from across a room; they felt so cold and each time they chilled him to the bone. Russia in general frightened him now that he had nothing; the entire country was huge and rough, and freezing. He still remembered the days of teasing Ivan when they were younger. Running up behind him, pushing him into the snow, or wrecking a snowman he’d just built, which always ended with Ivan crying. Back then, Gilbert just laughed at him like the brat he was. He had no idea that the Russian would grow to be so big.

Gilbert actually chuckled.

‘I guess it’s too late to take him up on his offer to be friends…’

The car pulled over to a sudden stop, which startled him. He was there. Glancing to the right he saw a large, two-story building covered in snow. Most of the rooms were dark, except for a few on the bottom floor, and the front door window was lit up as well.

‘I’m here…’ he told himself. After taking a deep breath, he pulled on the handle of the door and pushed it open. A chilly gust of winter air swept into the cab and made him wince. Stepping out, he felt his feet crunch the snow and fall an inch down into it, leaving an imprint. Gilbert walked behind the cab as the driver did. The driver unlocked the trunk and allowed Gilbert to grab the two suitcases of his stuff out. Gilbert looked to the other man, whose expression didn’t change at all. He looked disappointed, which only pushed Gilbert’s mood down even more. Was the man disappointed in him? Gilbert was sure that the man knew who he was, but he wasn’t sure how the people thought of him.

The driver got back into the cab after nodding to Gilbert, and drove off. Gilbert watched the lights on the car fade into the snow that was falling. Once it was out of sight, he had a realization that there was no going back. He looked to the large house. Somewhere in there was Ivan, waiting for him.

With each step he took through the snow, he wondered what Ivan would say or do. He hadn’t seen him in a week since the meeting that caused his dissolution, and even then they didn’t speak. Gilbert had no idea how Ivan felt about it.

‘He’s happy…’ Gilbert thought. ‘Why wouldn’t he be…’ Ivan would probably make him work like a slave after how Gilbert treated him when they were little. Having a former military nation washing their dishes would be a treat for anyone.

Gilbert reached the door, already completely frozen to the bone, and knocked three times. A minute passed slowly and nothing happened. Deciding to try it, he gripped the doorknob, turned it, and was stunned to find that the door was unlocked. For a moment he wondered why Ivan would leave his door unlocked, but then he figured that no one would be foolish enough to actually try to break into Ivan Braginsky’s house.

Walking inside, Gilbert was pleasantly surprised by how warm it was; the chill from outside left his body rather quickly. He glanced around at the home, recognizing it immediately as something that belong to Ivan. It didn’t look any different from the last time he’d been there. Even the scent was the same. It smelled like Ivan, and it was strong and made his nose scrunch up some. Gilbert turned around and looked at the front door. It occurred to him that he could just leave, go into hiding and avoid everything, but before he could act, he heard footsteps behind him.

“Gilbert?” Ivan called out to him from atop the large staircase.

Gilbert didn’t want to turn around, but he heard the other coming down the stairs. “How’d you know I was here?”

Ivan stopped behind Gilbert and tilted his head. “That’s a silly question. I knew you were coming. I also heard the door.”

“Oh…” Gilbert breathed out and then turned to face Ivan. He looked just the same as ever. Wearing a white scarf and a long tan coat. And being too tall; Gilbert always had to look up at him when they were within feet of each other.

Ivan wished he could say the same about Gilbert; he didn’t look the same at all. Gilbert’s body seemed smaller, and he was slouching his shoulders more than usual. It looked as if he was barely keeping his body up. But what made Ivan feel utterly devastated was the look on Gilbert’s face. He didn’t know if Gilbert knew he looked the way he did, but the albino’s expression read that he was completely broken. His lips were curved down into a frown, and cracked from an obvious lack of water. It’d been a week since the dissolution, and Ivan knew it probably caused Gilbert to not want to eat or drink. Even his eyes hung down, like he was exhausted. There was something else – a severe need to cry. Ivan knew the look all too well, and he felt it in Gilbert. He didn’t dislike Gilbert. In fact, he rather enjoyed him, but he knew that Gilbert disliked him and most likely hated the fact that he had to live with him.

Gilbert took a quick step back and dropped a suitcase when Ivan reached for it. The reaction made Ivan sad and it showed on his face. He was just trying to help.

“I’ll show you to your room,” Ivan said and picked up the suitcase that Gilbert dropped, and then began up the stairs. Gilbert swallowed the saliva in his mouth and, still with the other suitcase in hand, followed Ivan.

Ivan stopped by the room and opened the door. He looked to Gilbert to let him know that he could enter. The albino hurried in and Ivan followed. The Russian placed the suitcase on the queen-sized bed and turned to Gilbert. He grabbed the other suitcase from him and put it by the other.

“You can use this room however you want,” Ivan said. “You can put your clothing away now or wait until later.”

Gilbert tensed a little. “Why, what’s happening now?”

“Nothing. I’m going to prepare dinner. You can take a shower if you want. It’s right down the hall on the left. Use whatever you want.” Ivan hated that Gilbert seemed to expect him to hurt him. He was frightened, and Ivan could tell. He sighed. “Meet me downstairs in an hour, okay?”

Gilbert gave a hesitant nod and Ivan simply left.

Being alone in his new room was a strange feeling. This room would be his for…who knew how long.

‘I’d rather be out in the cold,” he thought, but he knew it was a lie. In truth, he wanted to climb under the blankets and cry until he fell asleep, but Ivan wouldn’t allow that. He’d make him eat, which wasn’t a bad thing, and Gilbert’s body would probably thank him for it.

Gilbert flopped down on the bed, lying on his back. He stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. After, he didn’t even remember what he was thinking about, like his mind had gone blank for those minutes. Eventually he found the will to sit up and start unpacking, figuring that if he didn’t do it now, he never would. Or unless Ivan told him to.

He put his clothing in a nearby dresser, and was finishing up looking through his suitcases. He reached into the front pocket of one and felt something cold. He was confused until he pulled it out. He felt his heart swell when he saw that it was his black iron cross. He stared at the shiny black, but then in a moment of anger, he threw it into a drawer of the bedside end-table and slammed the drawer shut.

For a few seconds he stood there panting and breathing heavily. He stiffened his jaw, grabbed clean clothing, and headed to the bathroom as Ivan suggested. Maybe showering would help clear his mind, but he doubted it. He locked the door, making sure it was by checking it twice, and then began to remove his clothes.

The War left him scarred. It’d been 2 years but he still remembered every bit of it. He had scars on his back, some on his chest and arms, but the biggest was diagonally across his chest. He ran his pointer finger over it and felt himself get choked up. He’d rather sustain that wound again— No. He’d rather endure _all_ of that pain again than endure being nothing but Ivan’s servant. He would go through as much pain as his body could handle before it collapsed if it meant getting his status as a nation back.

Finally getting in the shower, he adjusted the water to be searing hot. It hurt and felt like it was burning his skin, but he made no attempt to change it. He stood there, letting the water hit his front and spray onto the wall and shower door.

From no where, a memory hit him. It didn’t matter which one; they were all painful to him now, and he covered his mouth to muffle a cry of sorrow that forced it’s way from his throat. His eyes became wet with tears and he stumbled into the wall. No one was around. No one could see him, so he let the tears flow. A whimper escaped, followed by several wheezes and sniffles. His sobs were getting louder and he tried his best to keep his voice down. After a few minutes, he couldn’t hold it back, or didn’t care to anymore, and he let out a loud wail that brought him to his knees, his fingers clinging to his arms with a tight grip. It hurt. His chest felt like it was being compressed or stepped on, his throat was tightening, and the water was still blazing hot.

Eventually the water ran frigid and he was sitting on the shower floor with his knees pulled to his chest. If he could see himself he’d think he was pathetic, and he knew that. The water was hurting his skin still, but part of him didn’t care.

He figured he should get out before Ivan came looking for him. It’d been over an hour since he left him, and Gilbert could smell the scent of food, which made his empty stomach growl naturally.

Gilbert shut the water off, got out, and dried his body enough to wear clothes without soaking them. He didn’t touch his hair, though, and then left the bathroom.

After dropping his dirty clothes off in his room, he made his way back downstairs. The scent of food got stronger and he followed it to the dining room. Ivan was seated at a small table, the entire thing made up with food, with one bottle of alcohol. Gilbert wanted badly to chug the entire bottle of vodka and pass out somewhere, but what would Ivan think of him if he did that? He figured that no one’s opinion of him could get any lower anyway.

Ivan noticed the albino enter and watched as he sat across from him. There were a few feet or so between them. Ivan was silent for a moment, but then noticed something.

‘His hair is soaked…’ Ivan narrowed his eyes a little. The white locks had beads of water sliding down and off of them. Gilbert really wasn’t taking proper care of himself anymore.

“Gilbert,” Ivan spoke up, making the other look at him with an expression that could only be described as defeated. “Your hair. Why is it so wet?” he asked.

Gilbert was silent. He didn’t know how to answer the other. “… I didn’t feel like drying it.”

Ivan saw the way Gilbert had his entire body slumped in the chair. He knew what was bothering Gilbert but he dared not speak of the dissolution. Not yet, it was still too sore of a subject, and Ivan wanted to at least try to start over with Gilbert.

“You will catch a cold,” Ivan told him.

“I don’t care,” Gilbert replied.

The exchange of words saddened Ivan, but he couldn’t just sit there and let Gilbert’s hair drip like it was doing. Finally deciding to act, Ivan stood up, startling Gilbert enough to make him gasp quietly. Ivan went to his side, which only made the albino squirm with uncertainty. Ivan hated seeing the nervous look on Gilbert’s face, like he was calculating all the horrible things Ivan could—but would never—do to him.

To Gilbert’s surprise, Ivan grabbed a bunch of napkins from the table and began to dry his hair with them. The initial touch made him jolt some, but Ivan didn’t stop. He gently squeezed the napkins around Gilbert’s white locks, and for a moment Ivan felt happy. He’d never been able to even touch Gilbert without the man struggling and pushing to get away from his friendly hugs, or flinching away when he’d simply tap his shoulder. Gilbert slouched back down in his chair, let his body relax, and allowed Ivan to continue. The Russian moved around to the back. The touch near Gilbert’s neck made the hair there stand on end, threatening to make him shiver. Ivan was soon around to the other side.

There was a moment of awkward eye-contact. Gilbert had to look at him. He needed to see the expression on Ivan’s face. He couldn’t read it. The Russian looked angry, but if he was angry, he wouldn’t be acting so gentle with him. Ivan watched him the entire time, even after Gilbert felt too uncomfortable to keep the eye-contact.

“Your eyes are red. You were crying,” Ivan stated.

Gilbert scoffed and turned his face away more. “I was not.”

‘Liar,’ Ivan wanted to say, but remained silent and kept drying until Gilbert’s hair wasn’t dripping.

After, Ivan served dinner. Gilbert didn’t realize that Ivan had made his plate for him until the Russian slid it in front of his body. Once Ivan sat down with his own plate, Gilbert spoke.

“… Where’s everyone else?”

“It is just us here,” Ivan answered and ate a piece of meat. He heard nothing but silence from the other and looked up after he chewed and swallowed. “Does it bother you that it’s just us?”

Gilbert stared at him, but didn’t answer. Of course he was bothered by it. The entire situation bothered him and whenever he thought about why he was there, he felt like vomiting. Gilbert then looked down at his plate and covered his eyes with his hand by holding his forehead. Emotion came in at the eyes, and he wouldn’t give Ivan the satisfaction of seeing him unsettled and ready to cry again.

The two ate in silence for a few minutes, but Gilbert barely touched his food. Ivan would glance up to him every once in a while, watching and hoping that he’d eat more.

“The War was hard on you. You are even more skinny than before,” Ivan said.

Gilbert didn’t say anything; he didn’t want to speak for fear of his voice cracking. It was hard enough to get the food down with his throat tightening with the need to cry. It’d been that way since his dissolution, and he lost a lot of weight since the War. He hated eating, he hated showering, he hated doing anything except for drinking. Ivan was very careful to keep the vodka on his side of the table, knowing that Gilbert wouldn’t be bold enough to try to take it.

“Please eat as much as you can.”

Gilbert peeked up through his fingers, hearing a tone of concern in Ivan’s voice. ‘Is he worried about me…?’ he wondered. He felt like it was impossible. ‘Why…?’

Gilbert then felt obligated to eat. Even if he didn’t much like Ivan, the food he made looked and tasted great. It was then that he realized that Ivan had prepared the entire meal by himself.

‘He did all this for me…?’ Gilbert looked up at the Russian across from him, but caught him looking out the window in thought. Gilbert watched for a moment, and then started to eat.

Ivan heard the clanking of utensils on the plate and looked at Gilbert. He hid a small smile under his scarf at the sight of Gilbert finally eating normally. For a second he felt like he was looking at the “old” Gilbert again. The one who’d shove his face so full of food that he barely had time to chew and swallow.

Soon the albino finished his meal, and the entire time Ivan had been staring at him, admiring him from across the table.

“May I be excused?” Gilbert asked.

The way Gilbert was looking at him melted Ivan’s heart. He wanted to say “no” and keep Gilbert in his sight. He rarely got to see him and Gilbert didn’t want to be around him, but Ivan desperately wanted that. To be Gilbert’s friend was all he’d wanted for so very long.

“Of course,” Ivan answered, as much as he didn’t want to say the words, he had to. He knew that forcing Gilbert to stay in the room would only distance them more. Besides, Ivan had no idea what to say to him. He felt like anything he said would break Gilbert; he was clearly fragile and scared, but didn’t want anyone to know.

/

Gilbert headed back upstairs, but he got caught by the sight outside a window he’d passed. The snow was coming down heavier now, and the sun was almost completely down. He sat on the cushioned window-seat and brought his feet up onto it, with his knees to his chest. He sat there for a little over an hour, just staring out at the snow. If under different circumstances, he might have thought it actually looked pretty.

The semi-sweet moment was ruined when he heard Ivan coming. He waited for him to get within feet of him before speaking.

“Is this my life now? Eating dinner alone with you and staring out windows?”

“It could be worse,” Ivan said. He knew that Gilbert was just hiding how he really felt by being angry. Ivan was glad, though. He’d rather have Gilbert turn his sadness into anger and take it out on him, rather than succumbing to his sadness and taking it out on himself.

“How could it be worse.” It wasn’t a question, but Ivan answered anyway after sitting on the seat as well.

“You could have been forced to work. Or imprisoned.”

“And being here isn’t prison?”

Ivan ignored the jab. “You could have disappeared completely, if not for your capital, Kaliningrad.”

“ _Königsberg_ ,” Gilbert corrected him with irritation dripping from his voice. He always hated when Ivan brought up his capital. It still hurt. The bombing left his physical body damaged and sometimes his chest hurt when he breathed. Ivan let it slide and sighed. Curiosity settled in and Gilbert slowly peeled his eyes off the snow and looked to Ivan.

“What did you mean, ‘if not for my capital…?’“

“Your capital is officially part of Russia, in my hands. It’s your heart. As long as it stands, you’ll be alive. If it were in your hands instead, you’d be dead.”

Gilbert bit the inside of his lip, swallowing roughly. He hoped Ivan didn’t see, but part of him knew that he did.

Ivan moved closer, making Gilbert nervously scoot back.

“It’s okay, Gilbert,” Ivan spoke softly. “You don’t need to act tough anymore.”

Gilbert scoffed and turned away from him. He felt himself breaking. It’d been a week. He’d cried during every shower he’d taken since, and he had to leave the room if the name “Prussia” was even mentioned because he’d either want to break something or cry, or both. He was holding all of his feelings in, just accepting his fate and fooling everyone he knew. Now Ivan, a man who he didn’t really care for, was telling him nice things, things he didn’t know he wanted to hear, especially from Ivan. Whereas everyone else saw his dissolution as, “something that had to be done.”

Ivan moved even closer and suddenly hugged Gilbert.

“H-Hey! Let go of me! Get off!” Gilbert protested by pushing on Ivan’s chest, but to no avail.

Ivan squeezed tighter. “Everything will be okay. You don’t have to be strong anymore.”

Gilbert’s eyes immediately filled with tears. Without a second thought, his body collapsed into Ivan’s, pale hands gripped the Russian’s coat and shook terribly. Ivan’s words broke through his shield and he sobbed right into the Russian’s chest. He didn’t care. In that moment he didn’t care if Ivan saw him cry. He was tired of hiding it, tired of keeping most of his tears bottled up. Such simple words from Ivan made Gilbert’s chest hurt as he wheezed and sniffled against him.

One of Ivan’s hands found the back of Gilbert’s head and softly stroked the white hair. He shushed him soothingly and cradled him to his body as he rubbed up and down the trembling back. Gilbert was still crying loudly, clinging to Ivan as if he didn’t know it was him he was clinging to. His voice was becoming hoarse and his body slowly stopped shaking.

It destroyed Ivan to not be able to fix Gilbert’s sorrow. The man was exhausted and needed to sleep for a while, and drink a lot of water too. Ivan began to move away from Gilbert, but to his surprise, the albino held onto his coat even tighter, like he just needed someone to hold him. Ivan had to touch his hand to get him to let go. He moved beside Gilbert and scooped his arms under his legs and picked him up. The action made Gilbert gasp but he didn’t protest until after a second when he realized that Ivan was heading to his room.

“Put me down, Ivan,” Gilbert told him, pushing on the other’s chest some.

Ivan refused and seemingly ignored the request entirely. He carried him to Gilbert’s room where he placed the albino on the bed. Immediately after he was out of his arms, Ivan stroked Gilbert’s hair, making him recoil back in confusion.

“You have nothing to fear here, not from me,” Ivan assured him. “You can cry as much as you need to. If you want, you can even take your anger out on me and hit me.”

Gilbert’s eyes went wide. “Why…?”

Ivan looked sad. “It is the least I can do for not being able to help you.”

“Help me? What are you talking about.”

Ivan stopped moving his hand and stared into Gilbert’s blood-shot eyes. “I was against the choice to dissolve Prussia.” Gilbert’s mouth hung open slightly. “I thought it was unnecessary, but my word meant little to everyone else.”

Gilbert couldn’t help the tears that filled his eyes and slid down his cheeks. Ivan wiped at them with his thumb.

“Cry and scream if you need to, Gilbert,” Ivan spoke sadly still. Gilbert was a mess and it hurt him. “No one will hear you here, so let it all out.” He patted the top of Gilbert’s head and then went to the door. “Cry and then get some sleep, Gilbert. I’ll be back in the morning.”

Without another word, Ivan turned the light off and left Gilbert alone in the dark.

Gilbert sat there in silence, thinking about what Ivan just told him. That Ivan wasn’t part of his dissolution. The fact simultaneously made him feel relieved and extremely sad. At least one person didn’t want him gone. But he was gone. Prussia was gone. All he was was the GDR. East Germany. He supposed that maybe in time he could gain a reputation and status as that, maybe eventually rejoin his brother in Germany. But for now…

For now, he had tears to cry, and he let them out.

/

Ivan stood outside the door, waiting. After a minute or so, he heard the muffled sounds of Gilbert crying beyond the door. Hearing him cry in such a way, and over such a thing, brought small tears to his own eyes. It was terrible what happened to Gilbert, and Ivan couldn’t even imagine how destroyed Gilbert must feel. Ivan wanted to help, and he’d do anything to bring back that spunky, confident man he fell in love with years ago.

**Author's Note:**

> There isn’t going to be a second chapter to this. I just wanted to write some angsty Gil being broken and crying about the dissolution of Prussia.
> 
> Author’s notes:  
> •The headcanon that I included was that a nation’s capital is their “heart,” and since Königsberg was once heavily bombed, Gilbert’s physical heart suffered and weakened him.
> 
> —
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
